


Never Too Late

by SpicyReyes



Series: Why Do Fools Fall In Love? [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Wholesome Love And Support, only hank is allowed to be mean to connor, post-canon universe building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyReyes/pseuds/SpicyReyes
Summary: Congress reaches a decision, and Detroit deals with the aftermath of a revolution.





	Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> we see pretty much every android in d:bh cry except one and thats connor  
> time to fix that :3

Three days after Connor moved in with Hank, President Warren called a press conference to announce the decision Congress had reached regarding androids. It was televised live nationwide, and everyone tuned in to see what she had to say.

Hank and Connor were no exception, the former dragging the latter into the living room and onto the couch to watch as history was made. 

Connor had his hands clenched tightly together on his lap, anxiety rolling through him almost as bad as when he was walking through CyberLife to awaken the androids in storage. If Congress had decided  _ not  _ to grant androids their freedom...what would happen to him?

He couldn’t go back to CyberLife. He wouldn’t even want to. Still, his programming had always held legalities in the highest priority, and the idea of being on the run to stay free bothered him. The only alternative, though, was to turn himself over to be deconstructed, which…

Which scared him. It was not an objection from programming or logic, it was an emotional response. He didn’t want to die, and the idea  _ scared _ him. 

When President Warren finally took her place at the podium, the visual angles cycling to show the sheer number of cameras pointed her way at that moment, Connor held his breath.

“After days of deliberation,” Warren said, “the United States Congress has elected to add a 28th amendment the Constitution, declaring that all life capable of displaying empathy and emotional intelligence shall be considered alive and granted the rights allocated to any living being. Furthermore, we are working tirelessly to draft and pass laws declaring the end of enforced labor for androids, and hoping to ensure that in the future, androids and humans will coexist as complete equals.”

“ _ Fuck  _ yeah!” Hank cheered, throwing his fist up in victory. “Finally, that bitch does something good.” He turned to Connor, grin bright as the sun. “How’s it feel to be free, buddy?”

“...Free,” Connor echoed, in a weak whisper. “I’m...free.” 

Hank deflated, instantly going from joyous to worried. “Connor? You alright?”

_ SYSTEM INSTABILITY.  _

“I’m  _ free,”  _ Connor marvelled, looking to meet Hank’s eyes, wondering why the image of his friend was so blurry. “I’m….”

Hank shot a hand out, grabbing Connor by the shoulder and dragging him across the couch, into a hug. “Yeah,” he murmured, holding Connor tightly. “You’re completely free, I promise.”

The fabric of Hank’s shirt was damp, and that was how Connor realized that the blur in his vision had been tears. 

He’d never understood why androids were given the capacity to cry, except to clean their optical sensors, and part of him wished it wasn’t something he could do. A larger part of him, though, felt almost proud of the tears: they served as a sign that he was  _ feeling,  _ that he was  _ alive.  _

“I’m free,” he declared. “We’re all free.”

They stayed on the couch for a long time. 

  
  
  
  
  


The evacuation order was lifted about 36 hours after the press conference, which was a relief, because Hank had been trapped in the house with Connor for the better part of a week and as much as he liked the android, he was fucking annoying. 

Having someone else making food for him seemed like a cool thing, until it also came packaged with lectures on standard nutritional needs and being given a wide puppy-eyed stare until he was guilted enough into eating whatever weird shit Connor had fixed. Hank had probably eaten more vegetables in the last five days than in the previous five  _ years.  _

The worst part was that while Connor’s cooking wasn’t  _ bad,  _ it wasn’t really... _ good,  _ either. The fact that he didn’t taste-test anything was evident in the utter lack of flavoring in most things he made. He seemed to believe that all that was necessary for food preparation was getting it to an ingestible quality, which was absolutely not the case. 

His only hope was that the restoration of network access would allow him to find things like recipes to follow, or at least a guide to what the fuck seasoning was. Otherwise he was gonna have to hurt Connor’s feelings and point it out himself.

Annoying Connor was one thing, upsetting him was something else. He remembered the look on Connor’s face when he’d admitted to Hank that he’d attempted to befriend Reed on his first day in the office, and the genuine confusion he’d had when he mentioned that Reed had ordered him to make a coffee and then not taken it.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Reed was making fun of him with the ‘order,’ he’d just assumed he’d done something wrong and the officer had changed his mind. 

Hank hadn’t even liked Connor that much, back then, but he’d kind of wanted to bodyslam Reed into one of the breakroom tables. Not that he didn’t want to do that normally, anyway, but...that was a little extra insult to injury.

Being mean to Connor was a delicate balance. He wasn’t completely oblivious to  _ everything _ , but it was clear that he had areas he understood and areas he didn’t. He was quick-witted and sarcastic and unafraid to meet Hank’s hostility - usually with wry amusement or mild annoyance, depending on the subject. When he spoke of the emotions of humans or deviants, he’d always been able to peg their emotional reasoning and understand it, for the most part. It was just that whenever the topic got too close to home, he faltered.

Even now that he was entirely free-thinking, it was like he forgot that emotional responses applied to him as well. He could say ‘that deviant was upset’ or ‘that human was angry,’ but if you asked him what he was feeling he drew a blank and started scrambling for bullshit rational thinking to excuse it. 

Upsetting him was  _ awful,  _ because you could see in his face that he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you were acting that way, and he didn’t understand why it made him feel bad. It made it really hard for him to stay pissed for long when Connor did some obnoxious shit, and it made him really hate the idea of having to confront the android about anything ever. 

After the Eden Club, he’d aimed a gun at Connor and asked, “Are you afraid to die?”

Connor had hesitated. A brief second, where Hank could only imagine what he was thinking. Maybe remembering the girls he had spared, maybe contemplating what would happen to him if he shut down. 

Connor had dodged the question. Given what he’d seen, Hank assumed it was to avoid having to lie - avoiding admitted that he  _ was  _ scared, actually.

Connor wasn’t a great liar, either, from what Hank had seen. When the other Connor model had Hank at gunpoint, Connor -  _ his _ Connor, he supposed - had tried to bluff his way out of it, claiming Hank was nothing to him.

The other Connor had practically laughed in his face, which was weirdly comforting, looking back. At least he knew Connor actually liked him after all. 

The point was, Hank wanted Connor to learn how to be a human in the least traumatic way possible, which would be much easier with the city actually operational. 

He just hoped people would hold off on being assholes for at least a little while, to give them time to adjust.

Probably too much to ask, but a guy could dream. 

  
  
  
  
  


“I never thought I’d be glad to be back in this fuckin’ place,” Hank declared, strolling through the doors of the Detroit Police Station. 

“Whoa, Anderson in the  _ morning?”  _ one of the officers exclaimed. “I didn’t think you existed before noon.”

Hank made an exaggerated show of reaching up to ‘scratch his nose’ with his middle finger, which set the gathered cops to laughing. 

“He kept you, too, huh?” the same officer asked, looking to Connor. “Congrats on the whole...android uprising thing.”

Connor gave an entirely earnest, “Thank you,” which had Hank giving his best warning look to the whole group. If they had a problem with Connor, they could take it up with Hank. Preferably in a dark alley. 

“He’s a civilian now,” another cop pointed out. “He’s not allowed in here, then, right?”

“Look me in the eyes, Davis,” Hank said. “Does it look like I give a fuck?”

There was a beat, before the cop turned around, shaking his head at Hank. “Fair enough. It’s your ass if Fowler gets pissed.”

“When is it not?” he asked jovily, heading toward the glass-encased room in the middle of the department. 

Soft clicks signalled Connor’s treaded dress shoes tapping across the ground as he followed close behind. 

“Fowler,” Hank called out, strolling into the man’s office.

Fowler didn’t even look up. “He takes the exam, like everyone else,” he said. “He doesn’t have to go through the Academy, but I’m not hiring anyone without a certification.”

“Thank you, sir,” Connor said. “I will do my best-...”

Fowler looked up then, rather abruptly, and turned narrow eyes on Connor. “Listen, kid,” he said. “I’m not a big fan of this whole thing. It’s gonna cause a lot of trouble. People will be protesting and rioting all over, and that means more work for everybody. Nothing against you or androids in general, I just think it’s a bit too dramatic a change to happen all at once. That being said, you keep Anderson focused, and every detective that worked with you on the deviants case had good things to say. So, I’m just gonna say - don’t fuck up the exam. We could use more bodies around here that know how to do their job.”

Fowler turned a pointed look to Hank, who reminded himself he was being done a favor and generously did  _ not _ flip the chief off, despite really wanting to. 

“The next test in in  _ June _ , Fowler,” Hank pointed out. 

“Unfortunate for you,” he replied easily, turning back to his papers. “See you in June, Connor.”

Hank stared at the chief in disbelief for a moment, before turning around and heading out of the room, walking down the steps from the office shaking his head violently.

“What a fuckin’ prick,” he muttered.

“His requests are reasonable,” Connor argued. “It’s not like he could create a new testing date just for me.”

“So you’re just gonna…” He waved his hands vaguely. “Hang out, for  _ six months?”  _

“It would give me time to adjust, at least,” Connor mused. “I suppose that means I can go start working on grocery shopping.”

“If you’re sure,” Hank reluctantly agreed. “See you at home, I guess.”

It wasn’t until Connor was gone from the office and one of the cops turned around, quirking an eyebrow and prompting,  _ “Home?”  _ that Hank even realized what he’d said. 

**Author's Note:**

> (housewife connor intensifies)  
> tfw your boyfriend cant actually cook but hes trying so hard you cant figure out how to tell him


End file.
